


A Moment to Wonder

by eirenical (chibi1723)



Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Possibly Pre-Slash, Pre-Slash, if you choose to read it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/pseuds/eirenical
Summary: “Would it matter if I was, Bernie?”The question was forceful, hard.  A dare.  A showing of bravado to mask the quickened breathing, the whites showing around the edges of Elton’s eyes.  Even as young as he was then, Bernie had known there was only one right answer to that question.  Only one answer that wouldn’t lose him the man who had rapidly become the most important person in his life.  Only one answer that would let things continue on as they had been, with them writing their songs in their tiny little apartment on Reg’s cantankerous old keyboard, reaching for some long-distant dream they both half-feared would never come.  Only one answer that mattered… the truth.“No.  Not to me.”
Relationships: Elton John & Bernie Taupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	A Moment to Wonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abriata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriata/gifts).

”Your little friend… is a homosexual.”

Six words.

Just six words.

Those six words had changed everything… and nothing at all. They had rocked Bernie’s life, upended the careful mental construct he’d built of his best friend, his brother. Even more so when the newly minted Elton didn’t deny them. Reggie would have. Reggie would have stuttered, mumbled, deflected. He would have gone red in the face, unable to meet Bernie’s gaze. Elton, Bernie had learned, had no such sense of shame.

“Would it matter if I was, Bernie?”

The question was forceful, hard. A dare. A showing of bravado to mask the quickened breathing, the whites showing around the edges of Elton’s eyes. Even as young as he was then, Bernie had known there was only one right answer to that question. Only one answer that wouldn’t lose him the man who had rapidly become the most important person in his life. Only one answer that would let things continue on as they had been, with them writing their songs in their tiny little apartment on Reg’s cantankerous old keyboard, reaching for some long-distant dream they both half-feared would never come. Only one answer that mattered… the truth.

“No. Not to me.”

They’d gotten piss-drunk that night, Bernie remembered. Too much emotion, too much of it raw, not a small amount of it relief. They’d made fools of themselves all the way home, finally fetched up on the roof of Arabella’s apartment. And Bernie had watched, perplexed as ever, as Elton’s bravado faded away, leaving a vulnerable Reggie Dwight in its wake. Reggie Dwight doubted everything. He doubted his skills. He doubted his looks. He doubted his voice, his hair, his talent. The only thing he never doubted was Bernie. But while Bernie might still be a novice at handling Elton... he still knew how to handle Reg just fine.

“You are a _shit_ hot piano player and there is something special that happens… when you sing our songs.”

Under the praise, the tautness around Reggie’s mouth didn’t stand a chance. The muscles eased, relaxed into a soft smile, and for a moment… just for a moment… Bernie had let himself wonder. He had wondered if it would feel any different. If Reg’s lips would be harder than a girl's or maybe even softer. If those lips would be pliant under his, sweetly giving, or if they would demand. Bernie had given himself just that one moment to wonder… to wonder what he would want, if things were different. If _he_ were different.

In the end, he’d backed away, reassuring Reggie of the depth of his love, if not its type. And as the years had passed, with Elton spiraling further and further down, lost in the grip of first booze, then drugs, and countless, nameless faces and bodies, Bernie had started to wonder again... What if he'd come up with a different answer that night? What if it had been him that Elton clung to, year after year, instead of John... John who lorded over it all, pushing Elton until he broke, over and over and over again… Would things have been different? Would they have spiraled so far out of control? Would he still have multiple broken relationships and marriages behind him or would he and Elton have stood the test of time? But these questions were pointless. He hadn't given himself over to the possibility that night on the roof, and that night was long gone now. No changing it. But sometimes, as he watched Elton's bright star tarnish just a little more, year after year, he still wondered... What if?

* * *

It had come as a surprise to get the call from Elton that he was in rehab. Bernie had tried to convince him to go more than once and more than once he’d had a receiver slammed in his ear for his troubles. Eventually he’d stopped trying. He’d stopped trying to get Elton to join him in sobriety. He’d stopped reaching out with invitations, with sympathy, eventually even with lyrics. Elton had no trouble expressing to a man that he wasn’t wanted or needed, and Bernie hadn’t felt wanted or needed in years. That final disastrous meal had been the last straw. He wasn’t the one who could save Elton from himself. He never had been. That night had made that perfectly clear. The only one who could save Elton from himself… _was_ himself. And it looked like he'd finally done it. Elton had checked himself into rehab, started down the only road that could possibly save him… a road that might someday lead him back to Bernie. And Bernie could only be grateful that his friend had salvaged enough of himself that he wanted to try.

That was why Bernie was there.

Elton had called, invited Bernie to visit in rehab. No strings. No expectations. He just wanted to see him, to begin to make amends. And Bernie could never deny Elton anything.

It was a lovely place, that rehab facility. There were trees and green grasses, lovely little gardens dotted everywhere… and wide-open spaces as far as the eye could see. It was the kind of place Bernie would have chosen, if he'd had rehab to do all over again for himself. It surprised him, more than a little, that Elton had chosen it, too. It surprised him even more to find, when he arrived, Elton in nondescript grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, a bucket of soapy water at his feet and a mop in his hands, diligently swabbing the hallway floor.

And Bernie was a little ashamed to admit it, but the way that Elton’s eyes had lit up behind thick glasses when he saw Bernie approaching… well, that had come as a surprise, too. Once Elton had finished with the floor, they’d sat outside together for hours, rambling on and on, talking about everything and nothing in a way they hadn’t done since Elton had been Reggie and the rooftop had been their whole world. And somewhere in the middle of tears and laughter, of worries shared and fears disclosed, of the reemergence of hope and joy and a multitude of things that Bernie hadn’t even realized he’d missed, had come a tumble of words that Bernie had long since given up hope of hearing.

“Bernie… I never told you how much I need you.”

Ten words, this time. Ten words that changed everything… and nothing at all. And just as he’d known 20 years before, Bernie had also known then… there was only one answer he could give. Because this wasn’t about need. It had never been about need. It had always only ever been about love… and faith.

Bernie had left Elton that day, left him with a smile, with a page of lyrics, and with love and faith and trust. And Elton had come back to him with all of that and a thousand-fold more.

Bernie rewound the battered old cassette tape for what had to be the twentieth time, pressed play with his heart fluttering just like it always had when he’d received one of Elton’s tapes in the mail, felt it pounding itself to pieces all the way up in his throat, as Elton’s voice belted out lyric after lyric of the promise Bernie had made him in poetry and that Elton had returned in a glorious rock and roll anthem of survival, despite the odds. And in that melody, and in the rollicking pounding of the piano, Bernie heard the promise that Elton had extended in turn, loud and clear and, not for the first time, Bernie gave himself a moment to let himself wonder... What if?

What if, this time, Bernie had a different answer for Elton upon his return? What if he had a new promise? What if all these years later he had the courage to admit to wondering whether Elton's lips would be hard or soft, giving or demanding? What if this time he tried to find out? What if this time, he didn't pull away when Elton tried? What if things were different? What if...?

What if they could be happy?

Maybe... just maybe... it would be worth a little risk.


End file.
